


sluice

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Armitage Hux Has Feelings, Bottom Armitage Hux, Dacryphilia, Feelings Realization, Love Confessions, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Soft Kylux, Top Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 01:30:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20921936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: The walls inside of Armitage Hux's mind have always managed to endure the overhanging threat of invasion and dismemberment by the persistent and frustratingly attractive Kylo Ren.Until now.





	sluice

**Author's Note:**

> Managed to bang this out last night in a moment of clarity. I had the idea of Hux crying during sex, and this is what came from it. Enjoy!

The walls inside of Hux’s mind have been erected ever since he was a child, but over the years they’ve kept out a lot more than just the poison in his father’s words, withstood a lot more than even his hardest and most devastating assaults. 

They’ve stood firm in the face of jeers and degradation and even physical assaults from his fellow cadets. They’ve held up to the scrutiny of the officers who’d been passed up when he’d made general, impervious despite the accusations of nepotism and other, even more depraved favors. They’ve fought back against the juvenile mockery of the Resistance’s alleged “best” pilots, as well as their destruction of his magnum opus, his beloved Starkiller—which he still can’t bring to call a failure, though many others have. They’ve remained steadfast and unfeeling despite all this, for blow after blow after blow, through every setback and debasement and near-death encounter. 

They’ve even managed to endure the overhanging threat of invasion and dismemberment by the persistent and frustratingly attractive Kylo Ren. 

Until now. 

Hux doesn’t know what went wrong. It had all started off as one of their usual trysts, nothing more than stress relief, like they always affirmed to one another when things got quiet in the aftermath. They’d wrestled their way through a variety of potential positions before Kylo wound up on top of Hux, keeping the general pinned by the wrists and locked at the mouth by his tongue and teeth, consuming Hux’s breath like he wanted to steal it from the general and leave him a withered husk, as if that had been his plan all along. And Hux had allowed the kissing up until Ren nipped his lower lip, at which point Hux thumped his shoulder and bucked his hips and insisted he get a move on.

“Impatient tonight, aren’t we?” Hux recalled that smirk, the kind of amused twitch that made him want to kick Ren off the bed and mop the floor with his smarmy mug until it was all blood. Instead, he’d only wrapped his legs around Ren’s waist and ground his ass against his probing cock.

“Only because you won’t get on with it.” Hux turned his head to the side with no shortage of petulance when Ren tried to go in for another kiss, even letting out a low, warning noise that would hopefully ward him off. Hux didn’t like making such sounds, he thought they made him more like an animal than a man, but sometimes it felt like the only language Ren would understand. 

Ren just laughed again, low and silky, but he did actually rear away from Hux, lifting his hands from the general’s wrists. When Hux tried to sit up, he found invisible pressure clamping him to the sheets, and let out a sigh.

“You consistently seem to forget our ‘no Force tricks in bed’ rule.” Hux wiggled his hips, that part of his body at least free from Ren’s bothersome powers. “What am I going to have to do to get it through your thick skull?”

“Be less fun to tease,” Kylo replied nonchalantly, kneeing apart Hux’s thighs as he summoned a tube of lube to his fingertips. Hux could’ve rolled his eyes at the unnecessary gesture—he’d just _ said _ he was no longer impressed with Ren’s cheap theatrics. Honestly, it was like he had a space wide as a flight hangar in between his ears instead of a brain. He never listened, nor absorbed a word of what Hux told him, always chugging forward along his one-track mind. 

Though Hux supposed the sooner Ren got to preparing him, the better. 

And thankfully Ren didn’t waste much time after that. He didn’t try to kiss Hux again, either, just focused on scissoring his wet fingers inside of the general and drawing out moans from Hux’s lips like a magnet draws iron out of sand. And while Hux didn’t go so far as to whimper like a brainless, rutting animal in the way Ren wanted, he did allow himself the occasional sigh and gasp, especially when Ren’s fingers curled inwards and caught against the tight cinch of his rim. 

From there, it was familiar—Ren would hook his hands under Hux’s knees and push them nearly all the way up to his chest, bending Hux in half as if he were a steel girder, made malleable by heat, being molded into place. Ren’s cock sank in easily, Hux offering little resistance at this point. They’d done this so many times before that the motions felt almost rote, like something they could do with their eyes closed—habitual, like the more chaste rituals of blow-drying and hair-brushing and mental-restructuring Hux would do each morning before shift. 

It was familiar—everything from the way Ren’s hair fell over his face, sweat in his scalp catching in the low bedroom light, to the pace of his hips fucking into Hux, the way they started small then swelled, like an ocean tide or an object approaching terminal velocity, to the fact that within all the movement and grabbing hands and tensing thighs and dripping cocks they forgot or didn’t care to kiss each other once. 

It was all familiar—until it wasn’t. Until Ren—because of course it was Ren—leaned forward with his cock balls-deep inside of Hux and decided in a moment of madness or perhaps rare, clear sanity, to whisper a rush of three words against Hux’s ear amidst all the unintelligible swears and gasps. 

“_I love you_…” 

And then all at once there was an upwelling inside of Hux, a disturbance of the pond he kept carefully placid, even as the fervid storm that was Ren rocked above him and inside of him as if he wanted to see it disturbed and cracked, as if he could sense the equilibrium Hux struggled to keep day in, day out. And yet Ren seemed so guileless, in the throes of sex, the words spoken so quickly and unintentionally as if he hadn’t wanted Hux to hear them—but Hux had. 

And those three words were what had finally brought down the walls.

“Hux, wait...hold on.”

He feels Ren try to pull out slowly but locks his legs around his waist, keeping him inside. Hux draws in a haggard breath, wishing he could press a palm to his eyes to rub away the wetness—or at the very least, block out the sight of Ren gaping down upon him in shock, too dark and bright at once like a blinding black sun. Hux seems to have forgotten he can close his eyes for a moment longer than a series of rapid blinks, intended to clear away his tears. Because _ hells_, he’s crying. He’s crying in Ren’s bed, with Ren’s cock inside of him, mid-fuck, all because Ren had the gall to let slip out that he _ loved him_. 

How humiliating. 

“Hey.” Hux doesn’t manage to close his eyes but he does look away when Ren uses that tone of voice, one so soft and fragile he feels it might break in the otherwise heavy silence between them. “You’re...you’re not hurt, right?”

It would be perfectly reasonable for Hux to be hurt on Ren’s cock, considering how monstrous and girthy it was, too much for any reasonable person to even entertain taking, and for a moment he feels tempted to play it off on that—to blame Ren entirely, to burden him with the total guilt of Hux’s tears. Perhaps then he would feel less ashamed. But somehow—to do that suddenly feels _ wrong_, if only because it would cause Ren’s face to crumble and sag in rejection, in sadness, and suddenly Hux doesn’t want that.

It’s then that he realizes the tears leaking from his own eyes aren’t ones born of agony—but of relief.

“No,” Hux finally croaks, lifting his hands when he feels the pressure of the Force on his wrists lessen. He reaches out to touch—no, _ caress _ Kylo’s face, because now it’s something worth a softer touch—and brushes his thumbs beneath his dark eyes, as if stroking away his own tears by proxy. “Not hurt at all, you monstrous fool. K-keep...” He takes a deep, shuddery breath, feeling more warmth well up in his face. “Keep going. _ Please_.”

Ren looks confused for a moment, cock still half pulled-out, but then Hux drags him into a kiss and he sinks back inside. Hux tilts his head, deepening the kiss as Ren’s hips pick up. It feels like a hundred things at once. Hungry. Soothing. A little wet, to be honest, and salty from his tears, but the taste is as cathartic as letting Ren finally flood into his mind with all the dark, thrilling passion he’s been keeping at bay this entire time. 

When Hux comes, it’s the best orgasm he’s ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this was a little contrived, but it's the first thing in months that I haven't immediately hated after I wrote it. It's been really tough to deal with these feelings and since I'm finally getting proper treatment for them now, I'm hopeful that this is a sign of good things to come. 
> 
> As always, comments are welcome :)
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thethespacecoyote.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/heir_of_breath7/).


End file.
